


myopia

by pseudocitrus



Category: Tokyo Ghoul, Tokyo Ghoul:re
Genre: F/F, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-02-22
Packaged: 2018-05-22 13:21:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6080910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudocitrus/pseuds/pseudocitrus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>This,</i> Rize thinks excitedly, <i>will be easy.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	myopia

**Author's Note:**

> written for tg-femslash-week.tumblr.com! the prompt was "sight." :)
> 
> hope you're having a good day!

It’s her second time queuing up at a signing, and there’s a difference. The room is packed; people are spilling out of it and down the corridor.

:::

Still, she always gets what she wants, even if she has to wait for an hour to get it. Takatsuki Sen bows to the previous person in line, and then looks back and up at her, adjusting large circular frames.

The book makes a soft sound as it’s set it down.

“Hello, Takatsuki-sensei,” she says, bowing her head. “It’s a pleasure. Please, address this to —”

“Rize,” Takatsuki interrupts. “Right?”

Rize blinks, and Takatsuki smiles.

“I remember you,” she says. “From my last signing event here.”

She…remembers her?

Rize recovers.

“There certainly were less people before,” Rize says, executing a shy laugh, and Takatsuki laughs back, brightly.

“That,” Takatsuki replies, “is not the reason.”

The air gets just a little warmer, in a way that is familiar. Rize purses her lips to moisten them. She feels her pulse pick up, a little, the same way it might at a silhouette following her down an alleyway, or at the trembling hand of someone offering her a paper with a phone number.

Opportunity.

This isn’t just some random stranger, but…it’s worth a try.

“I enjoy your work a lot, Takatsuki-sensei,” Rize says, using her coy voice.

“Oh?” Takatsuki says.

“Yes! They’re always so…compelling. I always try to savor them, but I end up racing through and finishing before I know it.”

“Is that so.” Takatsuki folds her arms in front of her. Her head tilts. “What did you think of this latest one?”

“Fantastic,” Rize gushes. “Amazing. The way you write…and the kinds of worlds and stories you come up with…I can’t even begin to imagine where you must get your ideas. How do you?”

“From life,” Takatsuki answers. Her glasses glint. Somehow, her smile broadens.

But now someone further down the line is clearing their throat; people are shifting, impatiently. Rize curses, privately, as Takatsuki straightens and peers around. She finishes writing her dedication hastily, and claps the book shut.

“Thank you very much,” Takatsuki says, and Rize takes the book back in both hands, and bows graciously.

“Thank you very much.”

:::

It’s only later, at her apartment, that she opens the book and reads what Takatsuki wrote. In the end, she’s glad for it; there’s no way that she could have suppressed her delight.

 _Rize-san_. Her name is written with a sharp flourish. _Thank you so much for enjoying my work._

Then there’s the name of a cafe, and a time.

:::

 _This_ , Rize thinks excitedly, _will be easy_.

Takatsuki is waiting, at a window table, with a notebook that she closes when Rize approaches. They have some drinks: a mocha, and a coffee, black. They chat, about local events and cuisine, and about what’s happening in the places that Takatsuki is leaving the next morning to visit. Takatsuki fields calls from her editor the entire time; in the end, she silences her phone, and then bridges her fingers together and rests her chin on her knuckles.

“I wonder,” she says, “if you’d like to see a draft of my next novel,” and Rize pretends to consider, and then agrees.

:::

The hotel is nice. Nicer than Rize would have imagined; but then, maybe Takatsuki-sensei is getting more popular she thought. The room itself is lovely, with a dim lamplight and a separate study room, and it’s from here that Takatsuki enters and emerges with a handful of papers.

“My draft,” Takatsuki tells her, and Rize looks at her and then pages through. She exhales out a  laugh.

It’s all blank.

“No wonder your editor is chasing after you.”

“What can I say? I’m still gathering material.”

Takatsuki takes off her jacket, and sets it on the chair; then she gestures invitingly, and Rize takes off her jacket as well. Scarves are next. Then, Takatsuki’s sweater, and Rize’s blouse, which Rize has to loosen her belt to free.

The room, though luxurious, is small. It only takes them a step each before Takatsuki is within reach, and by now, Rize’s confidence is high enough that she doesn’t hesitate. She leans down a bit, and presses her mouth to Takatsuki’s.

It — tastes good. Very good. She was expecting a little bit of sourness from the earlier mocha, but there’s just — _goodness_. A flavor sharper and more savory than anything she’s ever tasted. It startles her, enough that Takatsuki has time to turn her about, playfully, and push her onto the bed. The instant that her back hits the mattress Rize reaches up again, mouth already watering, so fiercely that their glasses clack together.

Takatsuki laughs. She licks her lips and raises her hands. “Do you mind?”

“Please,” Rize says, and Takatsuki pinches either side of Rize’s glasses and gently lifts them away, and then tosses them aside. Takatsuki’s own glasses remain, and though the large lenses obscure her eyes, Rize feels a gaze on her as Takatsuki’s hands drop.

Rize’s skirt is flung next, haphazardly, off the bed; then, her tights, as Rize bends her knees to help. Palms smooth across Rize’s thighs and stomach, and she sighs with pleasure.

“Takatsuki-sensei —”

But she’s interrupted.

“That’s just a pseudonym,” Takatsuki says.

“O-oh…is it?”

“Isn’t yours?” Takatsuki asks. Rize stiffens, a little, with confusion, and Takatsuki forms a V-shape with her fingers and maneuvers Rize’s nipples into the crook of it, and squeezes. Rize shivers, and Takatsuki massages her, encouragingly, and then bends, mouth open. Rize can’t help a sharp breath as Takatsuki’s tongue swirls, as her teeth pinch gently. Her lips lift away and leave Rize flushed and peaked.

“Delicious,” Takatsuki murmurs, and Rize swallows. The way she says it…somehow, the feeling Rize has is different than any of the other times people have muttered similar words.

Then again, words are Takatsuki’s specialty. She is saying them even now.

“Lovely,” she is muttering, adjusting her glasses, teasing Rize’s other nipple up. “Reddish, pinkish. Petals. Maybe…camellias.” She presses her face into Rize’s navel, taking a breath, leaving a kiss. “A chart. A map. A brochure. Mountains, valleys…no, no.”

Rize licks her lips. “Drafting me, Sensei?”

The thought is appealing. But Takatsuki is smiling, into space, even as her eyes travel Rize completely.

“Never. You’ve done a good job writing yourself, Rize-san. But I wonder if I can weave at least a little of your story into mine.”

She’s a slight person, but surprisingly strong. She hefts Rize’s legs up, and Rize braces herself, keeping herself stable and spreading her thighs as Takatsuki examines her. Takatsuki parts Rize’s folds with a thumb, and moistens them with a few adept licks.

This wasn’t what Rize expected to happen, when she came into this hotel — she had wanted to satisfy her own appetite, not be at the whim of someone else’s. But as Takatsuki nuzzles her sex, Rize shudders and grips the sheets and shuts her eyes, relishing, letting herself moan honestly, and roll her hips. Takatsuki suckles and laps, until Rize is close, faster than she can ever remember.

Between breaths, Rize’s eyes squeeze open, to find Takatsuki…watching. Rize blushes, suddenly embarrassed by her own desire, suddenly aware that she might be laying herself way too bare. Seeing it, Takatsuki’s eyes narrow, from a smile that Rize can feel against her slit; then Takatsuki’s tongue dives deep, and _presses_ , and Rize is crying out in earnest, and trying to take it deeper.

Takatsuki rubs wide circles on her skin as Rize’s body emits the last of its spasms; then, she rolls Rize’s tired body onto its belly, and brushes her hair aside, and begins kissing her nape. So soon after her climax, Rize is startled to feel her body begin humming again.

“You really caught my eye, Rize-san,” Takatsuki whispers. Her finger traces across the plane of Rize’s back, and Rize’s spine arches, somehow set alight by the lines and curves Takatsuki is scratching gently on her shoulders. Takatsuki’s long hair is trailing onto her too, brushing and spiraling, feather-light, raising goosebumps. Takatsuki’s hand strokes her ass, and then dives beneath it, toward Rize’s sex again, which is even more wet than it was after she came.

“You really caught my eye,” Takatsuki repeats softly. “So I hope you don’t mind if I help myself.”

“Not at all,” Rize says, but her voice is a gasp more breathless than she expected. She claps her hand to her mouth with embarrassment, and grips harder in an attempt to stifle herself as Takatsuki inserts two fingers inside of her and strokes, slow, and then swift.

She’s lost, in a haze. Takatsuki is speaking — phrases, passages, random-sounding things that don’t make sense, which slip into her skull and swell there, joining the wild buzz between her ears. _Sunset purple, spider lilies, an empty room, a black egg, a single scarlet eye, insides that are never full, a gentle stirring, a gentle scrambling, a hungry creature, aren’t you…_

At Takatsuki’s word, Rize poses her arms over her head, and places them back down, and parts her own sex, and dips, and presses her moist fingers into her mouth. Takatsuki watches it all, from every angle, smoothing Rize’s reddened skin as if she could spread the hue like paint, pinching Rize’s nipples as if they could possibly become harder. Her nails drag, writing and rewriting nonsense that feel alive on Rize’s skin.

Rize helps tear Takatsuki out of the rest of her clothes and then looks up, mouth open eagerly as Takatsuki kneels over her, cradles her cheek and moves her in rhythm. When Takatsuki shivers and drips, Rize feels faint.

She’s so…she’s so…

It’s the first time Rize has ever felt this way, the first time that hunger has struck her this deeply, deeper than the pit of her stomach.

_I want…I want…_

They shift around, and Rize grabs Takatsuki’s face and drags it to her own for a kiss. Her tongue slides forward, desperate, and Takatsuki meets it with her own. They kiss, for so long that Rize needs to break away to breathe. In the middle of her next kiss, Rize’s eyes slip open, just a little.

Takatsuki is still watching her, even now. Rize swallows, and softens back with a cough, brushing the hair across her face with one finger. What does Takatsuki see? Is — is Rize — showing — too much? But Takatsuki turns Rize’s head back, with a smile.

“Rize-san,” she purrs, and kisses her again, so gently that Rize can’t help but sigh and lean into it.

“Have you had your fill?” Takatsuki asks.

“N-no,” Rize whispers.

Takatsuki pinches Rize’s lip between her teeth. “I didn’t think so.”

She pushes Rize back to the bed. She looks down at her, adjusting large circular frames. Rize’s mouth waters.

_I want…I want —_

Takatsuki reaches, her fingers in a V again, and this time the pads of her fingers gently close Rize’s eyes.

In the dark, surrounded by warmth and softness and Takatsuki’s delectable scent and quiet tone, a brand new world spreads out before her. Rize can see it as clearly as if she were already living it — one hotel after another, ink-stained fingers, papers scattered on a bed, a pair of pluming breaths in the cold, pinkies hooked together, flushed and heavy sighs, a sweet exhaustion, and a feeling, finally, of _fullness_.

It’s so…compelling. She tries to savor it, even as she races through. Before she knows it, she finishes, gasping, and Takatsuki kisses her, and creates another.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
